The Fellowship of the Smut
by VengefullBuddah
Summary: What does Vengefull Buddah, Imp, a not so dark dark lord and a dead and rotting tolkien have to do with ANYTHING? *update, ch 4* ***The Fellowship, minus one, travels to Florida for advice from the Lady***PLEASE R AND R! NO BODY LOVES OR HATES US!
1. Just a typical day for Buddah and Imp

Well all what you are about to read requires a bit of background information. The Vengefull Buddah is me of course, and imp is better known as Ink n' Imp. Ian is a friend of ours who after graduating last year went on to a higher education in merry ol' England. Imp and I are both high school students and this story takes place in an empty classroom after I have enlisted the help of my compatriot Imp in writing my scrolls of wisdom. Remember this is all real. While the situation may be fictitious our personalities are frighteningly realistic. 

            "If you quote that one more time, I will be forced to rip out your ribcage and wear it as a hat." said Imp calmly and matter-of-factly said.

            "The all powerful Buddah will quote whom she wishes when she wishes and do not presume to tell me otherwise, mortal." Buddah said testily.  "Now!  Continuing writing!"

Imp turned sulkily turned back to her papers. A large stack lay before her and she wearily picked up the abandoned pen. 

"And do not grumble!" Buddah added as a closing point.  "You are treading dangerously close to my wrath.  You should be happier to assist in the monumental task of helping me with my holy book."

            "The blessing is too great – my puny human brain cannot handle it. I _really _am not worthy of this honor," Imp lied as she put the pen down again and tried to get out of her seat.

            The Vengefull Buddah clamped her hand down on Imp's shoulder and pushed her down into the seat.

            "Write! Or my wrath you shall suffer!"

            "Listen. Its not that I don't want to be your er…'most holy consecrated scribe'.  Its just that I have homework to do and my own stories to write," Imp said as she slowly backed towards the door using her notebook as a shield.

            "YOU WILL WRITE OR YOU WILL PERISH!!" Buddah bellowed, her green eyes snapping. She seemed to grow taller suddenly, and more threatening.

            "God damn it! You stole that effect from Lord of the Rings!"  Imp yelled, suddenly to angry to cower.

            Buddah shrank back down. "No I didn't." She retorted quickly, her eyes glancing around nervously.

            "Yes you did! Gandalf did that! You copied Gandalf!" Imp yelled back, her fists cletched.

            "Gandalf was my mentor!" Buddah bellowed in hurt rage. "He raised me from a little demi-god to the awesome power I am now!"

            "I'm sure no apprentice of Gandalf's would have gotten a C+ on their chemistry exam!" Imp taunted.

            "Whore of Babylon!" Buddah yelled

            "Padawada Princess!" Imp yelled back, finally snapping. She tossed the stack of paper to the ground in a fury, and proceeded to stamp all over the loose sheets. "Write your own damn book!"

            In a rare display of absolute loss of patience and true power, Buddah used her mind to slam the door and lock it before Imp could reach it.

            "Oh cute trick!  Once again, plagiarizing Lord of the Rings!" yelled Imp, fuming at this point.  "Open the door before I go Sauruman on your ass!"

            "I'd like to see you try! You are but a mere mortal, Imp… you cannot compare!"

            "Oh really?" An evil grin spread across Imp's face.

Tune in soon for the next chapter!!  


	2. Fellowship, anyone?

            It was then that Buddah became acquainted with the wall. Her body slid down the wall to the ground in a way reminiscent of a cartoon.  "But…how?" she managed to say in her dazed state.

Imp laughed phantomly as she suddenly raised a palantir high over her head. "Saruman left this lying around! I have seen the dark lord and he has given me power!"

"Ah! Bitch!" Buddah yelled as she mentally threw Imp against the wall.

"Bring it ho!" came Imp's muffled retort.

"It's already been broughten! I'm gonna get old school on your ass!" Buddah screamed. She raised her arms and lifted herself several feet in the air. "Kiss my ass sit-n'-spin!" She taunted, letting loose a powerful burst of magic. Imp crashed to the ground and began to spin around in circles a'la Gandalf. 

"Not…frelling…fair!" Imp yelled through clenched teeth as she tried to claw the ground to stop.

"Oh yeah! Who's all powerful now?!" Buddah taunted, her ego growing with leaps and bounds. 

Suddenly the shit hit the fan, so to say.

"You let mah bitch down!" A loud rather evil voice boomed.

Imp's body stopped spinning and fell to the ground.  Buddah whirled around and looked up.  There, in front of her stood…

"Ian!?" Buddah said, her eyebrows rising quizzically.

Imp and Buddah's red headed friend, who—in actuality—had abandoned them cruelly for the establishments of higher learning in jolly old England, stood in the doorway, dressed in a quite impressive ensemble of black.  "Sauron gave the business to me recently," Ian explained as he mencingly entered the room.  "I'm the Dark Lord in these parts now, and only I am allowed to abuse Imp is such a manner.  Therefore, little weakling, let my toady go!"

"Damn Brit-wannabe!" Buddah yelled as she concentrated all her powers on the traitor in front of her.

It was then, before blood was spilled, that a voice was heard.  It seemed to come from the Palantir, was muffled and sounded kind of… British. 

"Teehee! He's going to freak when he finds out we have been in his dorm room!" said the voice.

Three eyebrows rose simultaneously and one very miffed deity let her arms fall.

"So where did you say it was again?" said a second voice.

"In his underwear drawer" answered the first.

Suddenly the voice got much clearer as light was seen in the Palatir.  All three crowded around the Palantir.  "Here it is! Last time I saw Ian with it, some chick was talking through it."

"It looks like a paper weight!" said the second voice.

"Look! Ian wears tighty whities!" said the first voice gleefully.

The Dark Lord turned red and made a dive for the Palantir. He was lucky that the other two girls were giggling too much to grab the Palantir before he did.

            "Teehee!…I think you forgot something in England oh great and powerful Dark Lord!" Imp snorted.

            "Now look here!" Ian fumed, trying red with embarrassment and rage.  "I am Ian, heir of Sauron, Dark Lord of Mordor!  Nobody mocks the Dark Lord!  Nobody!"

Buddah and Imp looked at Ian, looked at each other, and then collapsed to the ground, 'Bwah-ha ing' wildly.  "TIGHTY WHITIES!" Imp hooted, tears streaming down her face.

That is why they were all caught unawares.  For Tolkien—who had been spinning in his grave so fast that he drilled his way out—came swooping down on them. 

"Fools!" his rotting corpse cried as he stormed into the computer lab. "Asses! I have had it with you youth today! How dare you mock my creation, my love-child!"

The three shrank in horror, though more from the smell than from the freakiness of the situation.

"I should kill you all!" he screamed

"Oh come on!" Imp squeaked in horror, trying to save herself for Tolkien's indignant rage. "At least we don't write slash!"

"I shall rip out your ribcage and wear it…" Tolkien froze as he took a double take. "Slash?"

"Here!" Imp cried as she turned on one of the computers. "We are not the ones worthy of your wrath!" she claimed, looking at the computer nervously as it SLOWLY booted.

With a few quick keystrokes the infamous homepage of Fanfiction.net appeared on the screen. With an ease born of habit, Imp brought up the Lord of the Rings page.  

With a quick scroll down and  a few words of consultation with Buddah, they choose a fic called "The Love that dare not speak its Name". 

            After a brief explanation on how to scroll down Tolkien's cadaver sat down and began to read.  He frowned deeply as he read.

"This is hardly as bad as you make it… SWEET JESUS!" he yelled, finally coming across the smut.  "I know I made Sam incredibly devoted to Frodo, but I never meant like that!"

"That's not the worst," Baddah sagely said. She quickly brought up a story called "It Happened Up Against a Tree One Day."

He only got so far until he could read no more.  "Blasphemy!" Tolkien screamed, rocking back in forth in physical pain.  "Blasphemy!  Blasphemy!  BLASPHEMY!!!"

"Its only a model!"

"Shhh!" Ian said.  "Now is NO time for Monty Pytohn references.

"But! How!?" Tolkien's corpse blabbered, desperately trying to compose sentences, though still too emotionally scarred to manage yet. "Who… how…but…like hell Aragorn would do that!!" he finally shouted, slamming his rotting forehead against the keyboard, tears slowly coursing down his shrunken cheeks. 

"If only I would have known sooner…" He moaned pitifully. "I would have put a stop to this…this…shameless crap!!"

"Whatever you do, nix mentioning the self-insertion or Mary Sue fics," Imp whispered to Buddah.

"We can help you get even!" exclaimed Buddah as she stepped forward.  "We have fought long and hard against the dark evil that is LOTR porn!"

            "A great evil was forged on the websites of the internet," Ian said solemnly, actually appearing quite dark and lordly. "Only there can it be destroyed."

"Join us Tolkien," Buddah declared. "Together, we shall overcome."

Tolkien looked up staring blankly at the computer screen. "I know what I must do – though I do not know the way."

"Do not fear! I shall lead you to the very door of the slash writers," Imp swore.  "You have my pen!" 

"And my powers!" Buddah cried.

"And my palantir!" Ian proclaimed, finishing the blatant movie rip off.    


	3. The Subways of New York

            The Fellowship of the Smut gathered what supplies they needed, and secured Tolkien's limbs with scotch tape and a little bit of Yankee ingenuity (the latter was frowned upon by the scone-eating wanna-be Dark Lord, but n one cared what he thought).  

            They walked for many miles, traveling from the pastoral Eastern Long Island town of Imp's birth to the mean streets of NYC.  As they crossed through the hard terrain of NYC, it began to snow.  It quickly piled up, and although Imp could walk over snow the others could not.  They were soon faced with a difficult decision.

            "Why pass through The City when you can pass _under_ it!" declared Ian.  "We are taking the long way, Buddah."

            "I would only pass through the subway if it was our only hope," Buddah said.  "I know what the New Yorkers awoke when they delved to deeply."

            "Let Tolkien decide!" Imp declared.

            All eyes turned to Tolkien, and he looked around nervously, overwhelmed by the responsibility.  "We shall go through the subway," he finally said, softly.

            Buddah heaved a sigh.  "Tolkien has chosen.  We shall travel through the Subways of New York."

            Buddah lead them to the subway entrance and down the stairs.  They can to the gate, and could go no further, for the bar would not budge and the Fellowship didn't want to jump it.  "Ah!  It reads, 'Place token, and walk through.'" Buddah exclaimed, scrolling through the many-language notice.  "I must change my paper currency into tokens!"

            Buddah approached the machine confidently and placed the bill into the machine.  It was promptly rejected, and spit back out.  Buddah tried to straighten it out, and place it in again.  This went on for a half hour.

            Finally, Tolkien shuffled over to see if he could help.  After a few moments, he spoke.

            "I think the bill has to go in face up," he said to Buddah, who was sitting dejectedly on the floor.

            She immediately flipped the bill over, placed it in, and the machine spat out four tokens.  

            "It's funny how an 'all powerful' goddess is dumber than a cadaver that's about five years from being fertilizer!" Imp said, being, as usual, a pain in the ass.

            "A goddess I may be, but a professor of Angelo-Saxon at Oxford I am not!" Buddah indignantly replied.

            "Those damn devious Saxons and their change machines!" Imp taunted.  

            They used the tokens, and walked down into the deep dark of the subway.  They came upon a vast chamber lit by many florescent lights.

            "Behold!" Ian cried.  "The great Penn Station!" 

            "NOOOO!!" Buddah suddenly yelled in great anguish.  She ran down the crowded station and fell to her knees, sobbing loudly.  "WHY?!  WHY!?!?"

            The rest of the fellowship ran to her side.

            "Starbucks for sale," Ian read off the door of the dark and abandoned café.

            Though, they didn't have time to mourn, for it was then that they were attacked by hoards of gang members, who had attacked them for some sort of gang initiation.  

            Imp leaped and slashed with her pen while Buddah zapped them with her godly powers and kicked them with her powerful legs from years of ballet.  Ian, being used to just intimidating people from afar, eventually began bashing gang members over the head with his pilantir—all the while, the voices of his English friends could be heard, mocking him about a past incident with a goat.  Tolkien mostly hid and shouted the name "Guliani" which seemed to repel the hoards.

            Suddenly, they heard a great booming in the distance, and all the gang members fled in terror.  The fellowship looked around in great fear, for the orchestra had swelled, indicating that the shit was going to be hitting the fan.

            Buddah realized what the great danger was.  "This enemy is beyond you all," she said as she stared down the platform.  "Weapons will not help you.  RUN!"

            Imp managed to yell "stop stealing Gandalf's lines!" as the fellowship turned and fled.

            Then, it came.

            On platform 1b, Vengefull Buddah turned and faced a demon.

            It stood 5'10, and was clad in a pink polyester bowling jacket and lime green spandex.

            It was a born-again Christian.

            "Have you accepted Jesus as your number one buddy?" the thing asked in ahigh-pitched voice.

            Buddah brandished her red duck umbrella.  "I am the guardian of bitter wit and sarcasm!  YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

            The born-again Christian lashed out its bible at Buddah, but her raised umbrella blocked the blow.  It then sneered as it transformed into the true hypocritical bastard it was.  It stepped forward.

            "YOU…SHALL NOT…PASS!!!" Buddah yelled as she pushed the button on her umbrella.  The umbrella opened onto the born-again Christian, making it lose its balance and fall onto the tracks.

            Buddah turned around wearily, but born-again Christian grabbed her ankle and pulled her down with an unholy strength.  "Fly, you dumb-asses," Buddah whispered.  And with that, her body disappeared, falling onto the tracks.

            "BUDDAH!!!!" Imp screamed as she leapt forward, trying to save Buddah.  Tolkien tried to grab her, to hold her back, but that only realized in Imp ripping his arms off.  Therefore, Ian had to grab her and drag her back, leading them back to the surface.

            When they had escaped the subways, Imp collapsed to the ground, her grief too much.  "Oh Buddah!" she wailed, rocking back and forth in physical pain from her grief.  "If you were only here now, I would never reprimand you for plagiarizing Gandalf ever again!" 

            "We must move on," Ian solemnly said.

            "Give her a moment to grieve!" Tolkien snapped as he tried to place his arms back on.

            "By nightfall these streets will swarming with bums," Ian explained.  "We must travel onward to JFK, and catch a flight to Florida."

            "Why Florida?" Tolkien asked.

            "You shall see," Ian said vaguely.

            And with that, they tried to get a taxi.

_~Authors' Note:  We are not homophobic, contrary to popular belief.  We support GLAAD.  We just don't like this sudden influx of slash.  Sam and Frodo were NOT gay, merely affectionate.   Flame us if you dare, though realize that will make you a hypocritical bastard, for if all these people are allowed to write slash, then by george, we are allowed to write anti-slash.  We have just as much freedom as anyone else does.  _ 


	4. The Lady of Sanabell Island

            Imp decided to make use of Tolkien's severed appendages and used them to catch the attention of a taxi cab driver.  He didn't seem to notice that one of his customers was dead, but hey, this was New York…you just become REALLY jaded.

            They arrived at JFK, and after a brief episode with the security over Ian's pilantir, (they forced him to strip down to his tighty whities before they decided that for all his evil vibe he really wasn't a threat, and his pilantir really wasn't a bomb) 

            The actual flight went well, and they arrived in Florida.  Grabbing another taxi (the driver wasn't QUITE as jaded, and unsettled by the rotting angelo-saxon professor in his cab) they drove to Sanabell Island.

            "Why have you dragged us here, Ian?" Imp testily said as the cab driver sped away in search for the nearest bar. 

            "We have come to see the Lady."

            "Oh!" Imp exclaimed, "I have heard of her!  She's supposed to be benevolent and wise and powerful!"

            "Er…yeah.  She's something like that," Ian hesitantly said.

            They traveled cautiously through the resort town.  Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows of the trees.  He had black hair and glasses, and was extremely gangly, and just short of tall—though, to protect his fragile ego, no one ever told him that.  In his eyes, he was six feet.

            "Nifty!" Imp yelled in glee.

            "I have been searching for you!  The Lady requires your presence!" Nifty choked as he was hugged in Imp's death grip.

            "How are things in Sanabell?" Imp asked.

            "Our people are slowly leaving these shores.  Our time has passed on, leading us away from the fair land of Florida," Nifty said, sadly.

            "That's terrible!" Tolkien exclaimed.  "I feel so sorry for you."

            "Yes…The seasons are changing.  More specifically, vacation is ending," Nifty said.  "Come.  The Lady waits."

            Nifty led them into a wooded grove where they beheld a tall, thin woman pouring water from a Poland Spring bottle into a silver basin.  She had long blonde hair, and was dressed in the latest fashion.

            "I am the Lady," Juanita said, her voice mellow and soothing.  "Look into the waters, Tolkien, and much will be revealed to you."

            Tolkien slowly approached the basin.

            "Could you hurry it up!" the Lady snapped.  " 'Passions' comes on in ten minutes!"

            Tolkien quickly stared into the water, and was confronted with images to disgusting to mention.

            "WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO MY LIFE'S WORK!?!" Tolkien screamed in agony.

            "I know what it is you saw, for it is in my mind as well."  Juanita cast a lusty look at Nifty.

            Imp grimaced as Juanita and Nifty started making sexual gestures at each other.  "Er….how are we suppose to beat this slash?" Imp asked.

            Juanita glared at her.  "_Christ, can't you see I'm busy!,"_ she mentally shouted at Imp.  As Imp cowered, Juanita snapped her fingers and her ripped surfer male slaves came, bearing gifts for all.

            To Imp, she gave a floppy disk.  "Since I don't like you, I give you the responsibility to destroy the slash.  There will be a LOTR slash convention at the very heart of the dark land."

            "Excuse me, but I didn't ok a slash convention in Mordor!" Ian said, defensive.

            "Not Mordor, dumbass!  It's in Jersey!" she yelled in frustration.  She composed herself, and continued.  "You must travel there, and download the virus on that disk into the computer that will be there.  This virus will destroy all the Internet files containing slash.  You, Imp of Long Island, are the virus bearer.  You will be tempted to break the disk and read the slash.  Do not give in!"

            Imp gulped, and took the disk with shaky hands.  "Why me?" she moaned.

            "You whiney ho!" Juanita yelled.  "Shut up and be grateful I'm sending people with you for protection."

            She motioned for the others to step forward.  "Ian, heir of Sauron.  I give you this."  She handed him a black leather jacket.  "And remember Ian—Accessorize!"

            Ian stepped back, a bit confused by her council, but digging the new jacket.

            "Tolkien!  I give you this."  She handed him a no-battery, hand powered flashlight.  "Take the Light of Florida with you on this perilous journey."

            "And Nifty," she said, turning to him.  "What is it that you want?"

            He motioned for her to lean forward, and whispered into her ear.  A sensual, lazy smile covered her face.  "Once I dismiss the others."  She told him.

            She turned back to the others.  "I will and another to your Fellowship to add a plot device," she announced.  "You shall meet him before you go.  Now, go—rest and put on the clothes I offer you, for your lack of fashion sense pains me greatly.  Leave me.  Not you Nifty.  You stay _right_ here."


End file.
